


Ship Repairs

by ambiguously



Category: Star Wars: Resistance (Cartoon)
Genre: F/F, Lesbians in Space, Mutual Pining, Post-Series: Star Wars Resistance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:54:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25140451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/pseuds/ambiguously
Summary: Tam has to repair and retrieve an abandoned ship for the Colossus, but the only person who knows where it crashed is Synara, and she's still not speaking to Tam.
Relationships: Tamara Ryvora/Synara San
Comments: 11
Kudos: 12
Collections: Rare Pairs Exchange 2020





	Ship Repairs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



It's been four days since her return, since the Star Destroyer that was never her home burned, and all the people who'd turned out not to be her friends along with it. Tam is back where she belongs, back where she's loved. Yeager has spent the past few days beaming at her, and almost every hour, Neeku has found a reason to throw his arms around her in a huge, exuberant hug. Torra has invited Tam to her quarters to play games as if nothing ever happened. Hype is calling Tam his best friend to every person he passes. Even Kaz has been less annoying lately.

Everyone is glad to see her again, and has forgiven her.

Almost everyone.

Tam watches Synara walk past her like she's invisible. She'd believe Synara didn't notice her the first time, maybe the second. Tam's short, and as much as she has always wanted people to pay attention to her, to see her, she's been passed over so many times she feels like a carpet. Synara may have missed seeing her, except that she keeps not seeing her, which means she's ignoring her, which means she's still angry.

Tam can't blame her. She's made a commitment to help the people aboard the Colossus, to protect them and work for them. Yeager and her other friends have have forgiven her but she knows forgiveness is something hard to earn and not to be expected. More of them should still be angry. More of them should hate her for what she did.

She watches Synara pass by, and doesn't call her back, doesn't reach out, doesn't try to explain. It's better this way. The station is big enough to avoid each other indefinitely, even if their circle of friends isn't.

* * *

Tam used to dream about spending time in the Aces Lounge. Now she meets Hype there every day for a while, rebuilding their friendship over hologames. They're not alone: it seems the lounge has opened up for business. Aunt Z's is still the place to be, but Tam spends her hours watching faces she's known for years drift in and out, greeted by the same racers who didn't even know their names a year ago.

Someone shouts a greeting as Synara joins them, coming in after a shift in Salvage. They're doing a brisk business, sending out skiffs to collect the galactic flotsam at every stop then sorting through to find the useful materials. She's busy, and she looks happy. Fulfilled, even. Tam can't stop watching her, drinking in her presence and tracing the pretty diamonds of her facial tattoos. She should look away, she thinks, warmth flooding her cheeks as she notices Hype following her eyes.

"Hey, Synara!" he calls out, waving his cup in a friendly manner.

She nods, "Hype." The smile on her face freezes and drops the moment she sees Tam. She turns, waves to her friends, and walks out of the Lounge again.

"Huh," Hype says, sipping his drink. "Guess she forgot something."

"Yeah. She forgot I was here." Tam folds her arms across her chest unhappily. She doesn't want to play any more, and lets Hype win the game so she has an excuse to leave.

She goes back to the shop, back to her own bunk in the back. Yeager gave her this space when she first started working for him, and he kept it for her even after she left, after everything. She has a piece of tarpaulin hung as a curtain to cover her bed from others' eyes. It's her room, more of a room than she's had to herself since she was a little girl.

Like a little girl, she buries her face in the blankets now, and doesn't admit to her tears.

* * *

"I've got a job for you." Yeager is his regular old kind self, and there isn't a trace of mistrust in his voice. The only change from the old days is a level of confidence and authority she doesn't remember. He's stepped into the role of Doza's second in command with such perfect fluidity she has trouble picturing him not in this place, not being this person, even though this situation was beyond imagining when she'd left. They're on the Command Deck looking out into space from a place she'd thought was a floating platform on the sea. This is all beyond imagination.

"Anything. I'm ready." Tam isn't going to squirm with of excitement. That's immature and unprofessional. She is excited, though. 

"Good." He pulls up a star chart and points. "This planet is one sector over. Synara told us she's been here before with Kragan's crew. There's an abandoned ship we could use if we can get it operational."

"When are we jumping?"

"We're not. The system has a thick asteroid field. The Colossus wouldn't be able to get in and out safely. And," he says, pulling up more holos, "we'll be busy getting supplies here." She sees fresh water flowing in rivers on the planet below, and enough fish to feed the whole station for months. Yeager nods to her. "Synara will meet you in the hangar in twenty minutes."

Tam's heart skips. "Can't she just plug the coordinates into the hyperdrive? She doesn't have to tell me in person."

"She's not telling you. She's going with you. She'll show you the exact location." He reads her face, and whether or not he reads her correctly, he says, "It's been a few years. She doesn't remember the coordinates."

Her mind races quickly. "If the ship's that beat up, you should send Neeku. He's a genius with broken equipment."

"He is, but you're a better pilot than he is. I need a good mechanic to fix her and a good pilot to fly her back here. You're the best person I know who can do both." He touches her shoulder. Tam wants to bask in his faith in her, even now, even after everything. She doesn't want to let him down.

"I'll go."

"I knew you would. Stay in contact. We want to leave this system in under twelve hours. If you get there and don't think you can have the ship ready by then, we'll have to abandon it for good."

"I'll do my best." She stands up straight, her back in a tighter line than when she was training for the First Order. Yeager gives her an indulgent, fond expression that no one in the First Order ever could have.

"I know you will."

* * *

Synara isn't waiting for her in the hangar when Tam arrives with her tools and an EVA suit. Tam wonders if her luck is finally coming in. She boards the ship, ready to stow her cargo. Synara is already aboard. She glances coldly at Tam from the pilot's chair.

"Put your things in the back." It's the first thing she's said to Tam since she disappeared in the night so many months ago.

Tam doesn't know how to respond, and stows her tools, hanging up the suit and spending a delaying moment uncreasing a wrinkle. Then she returns fore. There isn't enough of a ship to properly call this a cockpit. The second chair is behind the pilot rather than beside. Tam straps herself in, getting a good look at the back of Synara's head.

"Ready."

Synara doesn't reply, lifting them off. Tam can't help but critique her, if only mentally. Synara is a decent pilot, but the ship doesn't touch off with grace, slides perilously close to the side of the bay door, and coughs its way through the force field instead of nosing through. Tam's hands are idle in her lap as she wants to take the controls, zipping them out into the darkness and through the planetary system. She wants to guide them in a swift line towards their destination instead of this muttering, puttering, fuel-wasting track. She says nothing. Synara doesn't want to hear it anyway.

It takes them two hours to reach the neighboring system and another two hours for Synara to find the location of the ship. She hasn't spoken to Tam at all. Her only words have been for her hourly check-in with the Colossus, confirming they were on schedule. Tam has counted down the hours in her own mind. She's already lost four, and she'll need two in stock to fly back home. Six hours to repair a ship, and prove her worth.

That's what this is really about. Maybe not to Yeager, she thinks. Yeager is good at seeing the worth inside everybody. But Tam knows she's going to be proving herself over and over, if only to her own standards, maybe for the rest of her life.

She readies her EVA suit. "You can fly back," she tells Synara, her throat dry from not speaking. "I'll meet you back on the Colossus."

This earns her a sharp look. "You don't even know if you can fix it. I don't intend to strand you here."

Tam almost teases her for the implied care, but Synara's eyes stay hard. The joke dies in Tam's mouth. "Fine. I'll contact you when I'm finished."

Synara sighs. Then she reaches into a compartment Tam thought held spare parts, and she removes a second EVA suit. "Hurry up. We only have about six hours."

Tam grabs her tools and follows Synara outside through the airlock. They've docked on the small moonlet where the ship crashed, tethered to the second craft by a cable. There's no real gravity to speak of. Tam is careful to clip a line from her suit to the tether and she watches Synara do the same, both of them checking the connection before letting go and turning to the wreck.

"This is a mess," she says to herself. Unfortunately, her comlink is active.

"Of course it's a mess. If it were easily salvageable, Kragan wouldn't have left it." Synara reaches the hull, prodding at the hole open to space. "This is the main issue. The asteroid went through into the cockpit, and took out many of the electronics along the way."

Tam bends in. The boards are long dead, but she's brought replacements. "Life support?"

"It was still active. That's how I got out alive."

That gets her attention. "This was your ship?"

"For about three days." Her thickly-gloved hand touches the durasteel shell. "If I had a ship, I could be more useful to the defense of the Colossus. Captain Doza agrees."

One wing is crumpled where it landed. Even if she gets the ship spaceworthy, there's no guarantee she can get it running in the time they have. "We could tow it," Tam suggests after a moment's thought. "Get it back to the Colossus and work on it there."

Synara folds her arms. "You're a pilot. Tell me what that would do to our fuel."

Tam didn't have to think about the math. "We don't have nearly enough."

"No. The good news is, she's still got her coaxium. The engine panel collapsed on top of the holder. It was intact the last time I saw it."

It occurs to Tam that Synara has stopped not talking to her, that they are talking like colleagues, even friends. From the sudden scowl that crosses Synara's features under her transparisteel mask, the same thought strikes her, too.

"Let me see what I can do," Tam says. "I'll start with patching this hole. If we can't keep the air inside, the rest of the repairs won't do us any good."

Synara doesn't reply. Tam doesn't really expect her to.

* * *

Synara brought spare hull plate in the cargo hold with them. She silently helps Tam bring it over and watches Tam weld the piece over the hole. Time ticks down in her mind, but she can't hurry this attachment. The last thing either of them needs is for it to blow off midway home.

The wing is the next issue, and one Tam decides to work on before checking out the interior. As long as they aren't in atmosphere, the wings are more for stabilization than support. The thrusters on this side have some minor damage but the casings are intact and a quick poke inside doesn't show anything broken. She can limp home to the Colossus with this wing.

She notices Synara pat the crumpled metal, and her eyes are far away.

It's time to go inside.

They open the hatch, working together to shift it. The ship might have power but it's not running and as soon as Tam gets inside, she sees why. The asteroid is still in here, and it dragged the guts of the ship it passed through with its journey. Her thick, clumsy gloves have trouble removing the wiring wrapped around the rock that ultimately halted it. Synara joins her on the floor, helping to untwist the strands until at last the tiny asteroid is free. Under artificial gravity, this would be too heavy for either of them to shift easily. Here it's a simple lift and a toss out the hatch before they shut it tightly.

Tam turns back to the repair. This may be beyond her. The life support controls are on the panel. She punches them, hoping they'll activate, but the panel is as dead as the rest of the ship. With a groan, she turns everything off and sits, following the wiring to see what she'll need to reconnect.

Synara steps away, going to the fuel compartment in the back.

"I'll get to that," Tam says, but Synara is already working on the frozen panel covering the fuel compartment. She's brought her own set of tools, including a plasma torch with a fine line which cuts through the stuck metal.

There. Tam's fingers grab a wire that's thicker than the rest, and with a glance, she confirms where it matches a frayed end coming out of the panel. Were she back at the shop, she'd solder the pieces back together. She's in space under a deadline, and a wire nut will have to suffice. The power line sorted, she quickly matches up the other ends to their mates, splicing in connections as necessary. It's an ugly job when she's finished, and she leaves the panel open in case she's made a mistake and needs to put out a fire in a hurry. From here, the boards don't look as damaged as she'd feared. She pops in one replacement and changes out a few connectors on another two: simple, easy, mindless work even with the gloves in her way.

"How's the fuel?" she asks. Synara doesn't answer. With an annoyed grunt, Tam comes to her side. "Look, if you want to go back to not speaking to me when we're on the Colossus, that's fine. Out here, we need to talk or we won't get this finished in time."

"I'm not not speaking to you." Synara stops and frowns; Tam can't see her mouth but she can see the wrinkle in her forehead through the mask. "You know what I mean."

Tam doesn't, but she's busy. "Did you get to the fuel?" Even as she asks, she can see. Synara has the panel off. The coaxium is still there, but the fragile casing holding it has cracked.

"Did you bring a spare?"

"No," Tam says. How could she have known to bring a spare container? She realizes a second later that Synara is being sarcastic. "We might be able to rig something. I have a lot of duratape." She's allowed a little sarcasm of her own.

"You might need it to keep the wing on." Synara thinks to herself for a moment. "Wait here." She pushes past Tam and heads out the hatch. Tam almost stops her but why? There's no air in here to escape. Ignoring the fuel problem, she reconnects the casing's electrodes to their proper positions for now. If they can rig a holder, the power will flow. May as well be ready.

Synara returns with something in her hand. She gives it to Tam.

"A food tube?" 

"It's about the right size."

"It's a food tube." Tam doesn't like this idea and she's feeling obstinate. "It's full of paste."

Synara cuts her off impatiently. "Will it work?"

She examines it. The size is correct. She might be able to wrap this around the remains of the casing. With enough duratape, this might be possible.

Synara's speaking to her again. That's worth something. "I'll make it work. Thanks."

They squeeze out the protein paste and Tam sets to folding the wrapper carefully around the sharp fragments encasing the coaxium. She wraps the whole thing in layer after layer of tape, aware that if it breaks in mid-flight, the fuel has a very real chance of exploding.

"Don't race Torra until I get a better part in," she warns. "Not unless you want to call your ship the Fireball instead. What is its name, anyway?"

"I'd rather not say. You'll laugh."

Tam doesn't feel like laughing, but fine. Last connections made, they return to the control panel. Tam says, "You should go wait on the other ship. There's no point in both of us blowing up if this doesn't work."

"This is my ship. If you don't trust your own repair, you go wait on the other one."

They share a stubborn glare. Neither backs down. Tam reaches out and turns on the power, her eyes locked on Synara's.

The ship, miraculously, doesn't explode. Lights flicker on. The ship trembles as the life support rattles back to life. Tam counted three air tanks in the back. One was drained, but the others hadn't been opened. The automatic functions tap into the second one. Slowly, the ship fills with breathable air, confirmed by the life support readouts. In about fifteen minutes, the atmosphere is thick enough to support them. Tam takes off her helmet first. Part of her expects a musty or rotted smell, but there's been no oxygen for anything to mold or rot in.

"It's good," she says with a grin.

Synara pulls off her own mask, and as she has been so many times before, Tam is struck with how pretty Synara is. Gorgeous, strong women have always rendered Tam a little tongue-tied, and knowing this, is it any wonder Agent Tierny was the one who convinced her to join up? The shame of her recent past hits her, and she turns away from Synara. It's certainly no wonder why her former friend hates her.

If Synara has noticed any of this, she doesn't say. "Let's check the engines."

They get the starboard engine lit without trouble. The port engine, the crumpled side, coughs and sputters and doesn't fire.

Tam swears and puts her helmet back on. "Should've held the life support test for later."

"No." Synara points to the viewscreen. Tam sees what she means. There's a visible ice spray forming outside. The hole isn't fixed either. She dons her own helmet again.

They have another two hours before they need to head back home. Tam isn't sure they're going to make it but she's going to try. They break the airlock seal and emerge. The engine is the bigger problem. Tam shines her torch inside. A rotor is bent. That's easily a two to three hour repair back home with tools and supplies and two other mechanics to help.

Her face falls. "I don't think I can fix this in time."

Synara bends in beside her, peering at the rotor. "Can we fix it well enough to get back? The ship doesn't have to be perfect, it has to be spaceworthy. I can fly on one engine, especially if we're tethered."

Tam goes to say that a tether is a bad idea, but is it? The ship they came in wouldn't be towing, and wouldn't lose fuel. They'd have to fly carefully, especially in this asteroid field. And it would make Synara happy. "Let me see."

The rotor bends back into a wrinkled but suitable position with enough force. It doesn't have to light, it only has to spin. Synara works on the hull, soldering another layer of seal around the patch. She pushes away, then her face fills with terror. A second later, Tam sees why: Synara isn't latched to their tether, and is floating free from the moonlet into space with nothing to hold onto. Her momentum heads away from Tam.

Tam checks her own clip and shoves off with her feet as hard as she can. Her aim is off, angling away from Synara. She shoves out her hand as they pass. Synara grabs on, and they pull to each other, embracing in a secure hug before Tam pulls on the line holding her to the ship and draws them back to the surface of the moonlet.

For a moment, they stand there, still hugging. Tam's heart hasn't even had time to start racing, and the sudden adrenaline dump leaves her shaky.

"Thanks," Synara says, not letting go.

"Any time."

"I thought you hated me."

"What?" Tam drops the hug. Synara's face is difficult to read through the helmet. "What are you talking about?"

"I left. The First Order came, and I had to get off the station. I left without telling you goodbye, or explaining, and when I returned, you were gone. I thought you must have been angry with me."

Tam lets out a sigh. "Let's get inside and check the seals."

They enter the ship and reengage the life support. Tam restarts the engines. The port side doesn't catch but it does hum and won't throw off the ship's course during the trip back.

They have a few minutes before they have air again.

"I was never angry with you. I was worried about you. I wondered if I'd said something to make you go off. And then, yeah, the First Order was there." She pulls up a smile but it feels heavy and sad on her face. "And I was stupid and thought they would make me feel special, the way you always did. I was wrong." This part hurt, but it all hurts, and maybe her life is going to be spent getting past that hurt. "And when I got back, you were there, but you weren't speaking to me, and I thought, this is what I deserve. For following them. I know you can't forgive me for that, and I'm not asking you to," she added. "That's not something I can ask anyone for."

"You almost killed us all."

"I know."

"And you came back despite everything, knowing how much you would be hated, because it was the right thing to do. That means something." Her face is open and honest even under the helmet.

"But you're still mad at me."

"I don't know what I feel about you." There are truths in there Tam can't let herself consider. She flashes back to their time together when Synara was first aboard the platform. They spent hours talking, taking their meals together, playing games with their friends, or just spending time quietly in each other's company. Tam misses those times most of all.

"I don't know what I feel about you, either. But it's not anger, and never has been. I miss being around you. I miss spending time together. The worst times with the First Order weren't the drills, or the training, or the constant worry about doing something wrong and earning a brainscrape. The worst times were when I went back to my bunk after those, and remembered how much I loved spending time with you, and knowing that was never going to happen again."

"I want those times back, too."

They watch each other carefully, the dull hiss of the vents filling the small space around them. If they can hear the air, there's enough to transmit sound. The atmosphere will be stable soon. They've got three hours to make it home. Once they're down and safe, Tam will spend as many hours as she needs to repair this ship and make her fly again after her ill-fated last journey.

"You were avoiding me because you thought I was angry with you for leaving, and I was letting you avoid me because I knew you had every right to be angry at me."

"Next time, perhaps we should talk about things sooner."

Tam makes a face. "Let's not have a next time. No more running off. But yeah, talking is a good idea, too. No lies."

The life support indicator lights up. Tam checks the previous leak but there's no sign of air escaping now. A quick diagnostic confirms no loss detected. She pulls off her helmet again and breathes in.

"You've got an engine and life support. If I tow her off the moonlet, we should be able to get her into motion and keep her there."

"Agreed." Synara pulls off her own helmet. Something has relaxed in her features, some level of wariness she's been carrying since Tam's return. Tam's not sure if she's agreeing the ship is ready, or to Tam's earlier suggestion. Either is fine, and both is better. She runs through the rest of her diagnostics while Tam double checks the connections under the panel before fitting the cover back into place.

"Tam?" Tam turns. "Her name is the Second Chance. It's dreadful. I never got to name a ship before and I wanted something meaningful. I missed."

"It's nice. I like it."

"You do?"

"It's corny, but I like corny. You're corny. I like you." A moment passes and she clears her throat. "We'll have to break containment one more time. I want to attach another couple of cables to your ship to make sure it holds, but I'll do that myself and get back to the other ship after."

"Are you sure? You don't want me there in case you go flying off into nothingness next?"

Tam is willing to push a little now. "Why? Are you saying you'd rescue me?" She grins to show the joke. She is very surprised when Synara takes her shoulders and kisses her cheek.

"Yes. And if I couldn't save you, I'd stay with you to float beside you."

Her hands are still on Tam, and Tam imagines she can feel warmth through the thick gloves and her own suit, but that feeling merges with the warmth inside her. Synara's face is close to hers. "Good. I'd hate to be stuck out there in space all alone."

"Like we're going to be if we don't head back home soon?"

"Like that, yeah," Tam says. Syanara's hands fall away, and Tam feels like a moment has escaped.

To hell with that.

She takes Synara's arms and steps up. Synara is taller than Tam, and this is awkward and she doesn't care as she kisses her on her pretty mouth. Synara's eyes get wide. They're a perfect shade of green and blue, like the seas on some verdant planet Tam has yet to visit. Her mouth is soft, and it opens to her, and now this is a proper kiss, unexpected and wonderful.

Synara breaks it at last, and rests her temple against Tam's head. "I still haven't forgiven you."

"I know."

"I realize you saved my life. I realize you're a better kisser than I was hoping. But forgiveness takes time, Tam."

"I know." But now she can't stop the smile growing over her face, and she sees the teasing sparkle in Synara's eyes. Things won't be like they were before. Things that are broken can be repaired, and changed. They can't be exactly as they were, but with enough duratape, they might get by. "How long do you think it will take? You know, so I have an estimate."

Synara makes a thoughtful face. "My best guess?"

"I want only your best."

"In that case, I'd say it'll take at least an hour, maybe as long as two."

"I'll count down the time."


End file.
